I know I shouldn't write these words, and I also know that the past should be let go. However, maybe it was because I discovered two months ago that I can no longer enter your space. Maybe it was because I listened to a song about turning twenty yesterday, or maybe it was because I read an article about the tenth anniversary of SARS today. The tiny thorns buried deep in my heart suddenly woke up in the cold spring of March. Ten years later, when I stood on the other side of the ocean and looked back again, I was horrified to find that the ups and downs that I had never forgotten, the small things and the small things, were slowly fading one by one, just like your face in my memory. Although I am a heartless person, I am so scared. Who would I be without those twists and turns? Just like, if I can no longer think of your face, who can prove that I loved you regardless of the consequences and without reservation?
Wood, remember? We have been separated for ten years. Our love began when we became seriously ill during the tragic SARS epidemic and died in the summer when SARS ended.
Fortunately, after years of stumbling and stumbling, I finally seemed to have some understanding of love, friendship, and life. So, I said to myself, write it, because what I want to write is not only love, but more of a kind of growth.
With an extremely sincere heart, I want to write about my growth and loss between my 20s and 30s. Then, with a wave of his hand, Xiao Lang was a passerby from now on...